


Back Down South

by teskodanceparty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-24
Updated: 2012-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teskodanceparty/pseuds/teskodanceparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it’s because he only has two months left of high school, maybe because John has been easing up on Sam and Dean. Dean likes to think it’s him not giving a shit at the moment, the bottles of alcohol hidden by the false floorboard in the trunk of his car under the cooler full of beer, the knowledge that Sam willingly skipped school to do this, and the solid sound of his brother breathing in the seat beside him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back Down South

By the time they got to the beach Dean had been driving for just over eight hours. They’d gotten lucky; leaving at 5 in the morning gained them clear roads on the way down. But still, eight hours of driving, Sam’s mouth hanging open, and his breath fogging the window he leaned against as he slept the majority of the way down, and Jo riding his ass in Ellen’s truck behind him. Dean is getting a little antsy.

They’ve stopped twice for gas, seeing familiar faces pass them by and Dean frowns when Jo walks over, asks “Where’s your boy toy today Dean?” and elicits a huff of annoyance from Dean. One, Dean doesn’t know the guy’s fucking schedule. Two Dean didn’t have a boy toy. Not at all, at least not recently, or ever, thank you very much. He rolled his eyes, climbing back behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and driving on without a backwards glance or making sure Jo was still there. Dean rolls his window down, turns the radio up just enough and marvels at the change in temperature. He’s driven this way before of course but it’s different tonight, somehow.

Maybe it’s because he only has two months left of high school, maybe because John has been easing up on Sam and Dean. Dean likes to think it’s him not giving a shit at the moment, the bottles of alcohol hidden by the false floorboard in the trunk of his car under the cooler full of beer, the knowledge that Sam willingly skipped school to do this, and the solid sound of his brother breathing in the seat beside him.

Sam shifts, mouth falling open a little farther and coughs, sputtering awake. His hair falls into his face and Sam brushes it behind his ear before sitting up straight in his seat. His hair is getting too long in Dean’s opinion. Especially since they both know he only keeps it that length to annoy John. When John saw them both packing their things in the trunk of the Impala he actually managed to look surprised and offers more than a grunt and a stern gaze in Dean’s general direction.

“Watch out for your brother Dean.” John had said before tossing his overnight bag into his truck and offering Dean a $20 for gas. Dean took it, grimacing because they were always tight on money but knowing this would have to stretch for the weekend and until John got back from tracking down whatever bail jumper he was after this week.

They check into the cheapest, seediest hotel they can find at such short notice, Jo slamming the door open and joining them minutes later. Sam is already in the shower; Dean has his boots up on one of the two full sized beds on opposite sides of the room and Jo frowns at him, hand on her hips as she huffs. He just turns up the dial and continues to hum along to Paul Rodgers on the radio.

Once Sam is out of the shower they have a three-way rock-paper- scissors battle. That is until Sam scoffs the first to acknowledge the fact that there are two beds and no reason for him to fight for one. Jo is distracted enough by Sam making a show of stretching and getting comfortable in his bed that she throws paper and Dean grins.

“Victory is mine!” He yells, ignoring Jo stomping off into the bathroom to change.

“Rookie mistake Jo,” Sam calls after her, “Dean always goes scissors.” Sam chides before falling asleep.

Jo falls onto the bed, pulls Dean down beside her and rolls her eyes at the stiffness in his limbs as he tries to put distance between their bodies.

“Jesus Dean, it’s not like I’m going to try and jump your bones in your sleep.” She grumbles, wrestling his arm around her shoulders and laying her cheek on his chest.

When Dean wakes it’s with a jolt, sweat slicked forehead and a roiling in his abdomen that he could really do without. The room is empty and sweltering hot. His boots are off and he’s managed to tangle himself in the hotel’s excuse of a comforter. His attempts at freedom are thwarted until he hears a knock on the door and yelps for assistance. He’s glad it’s Sam and not Jo, he’d never hear the end of it if she caught him trapped in a blanket, swearing, shirtless and tripping towards the door.

Sam laughs a sound that comes from deep in his chest that Dean hears so rarely these days as he helps Dean out of his predicament. He lifts a grease stained paper bag, extends it towards his older brother once they’re sitting together at the small table in the middle of the room. He has a salad in a to-go box for himself and something made of hamburger, bacon, cheese, bread and heaven for Dean.

It’s just like home, Dean thinks as they eat in companionable silence. Jo bursting through the door with a smirk on her lips, pulling Gabe in behind her doesn’t dampen the feeling of ‘home’ Dean has. He groans all the same, Jo and Gabe coming together at any time was never a good idea. Gabe’s smile is an almost permanent presence on his face, stretching into a grin at the sight of Sam and Dean at the table with food between them. Jo smiles down at Dean, leans against his side and steals a fry off his wrapper. Dean doesn’t know whether or not to look away from the all too obvious silent exchange going on between his brother and Gabe.

Sam is still a little huffy since it was Gabe who snuck into the wrong bedroom window the summer before Dean’s freshman year with a six pack in hand and instead of correcting the mistake and continuing on his mission (the last Dean had heard of it, it was called Operation: he’s got a pretty mouth, but it still changes frequently) crawled into bed with Sam and didn’t wake up until Sam was screaming because, well, he just woke up with Gabe in his bed.

Jo nudged Dean’s side, brow furrowed as she looks down at his bare chest. Dean grins, ignoring it as he drips ketchup down his chest. She rolls her eyes, wipes at it with a finger and licks it clean, as if it isn’t remotely sexual and for them it’s not.

“Would it kill you to put on a shirt Dean.” She doesn’t ask, just starts pushing him up and towards his duffle. It’s fairly empty, save for an extra pair of briefs and his favorite Zeppelin shirt. He pulls it over his head and sees the smile on Gabe’s face soften. He leaves whatever’s going on with Sam and Gabe alone for now. (He really doesn’t want to know.) They give themselves ten minutes to get ready for the beach. Jo takes the shower to change, Dean is brushing his teeth at the sink, singing along to the radio through the foam of whatever store brand tooth paste he’s using.

“Oh my god, Dean, shut up.” Jo says, sticking her head around one side of the shower curtain. He catches a flash of her blond hair in its usual braid, swirl of light that will trail down over her tan shoulder as she walks and imagines a world where he felt for Joanne Beth Harvelle as more than a little sister. It would probably make living with John a lot easier, probably the last months of high school too. But then he rinses, grins at his reflection, kicks the door open and singing along to the song on the radio. Jo yells at him and Sam and Gabe jump apart (Dean really doesn’t want to know) and everything is fine.

The heat has risen in leaps and bounds by the time they get to the beach and Sam is whining and Gabe is offering to ‘slather Sammy in sunblock’ with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle and Dean shouldn’t be laughing but he does anyways. Dean parks in the one of the few shaded slots available, grabs the cooler from the trunk, and follows Jo. This was her idea in the first place and though he agreed to it because she’s his best friend and he loves her, he’s still a little cautious of the whole thing. Gabe is currently smoking something that smells suspiciously not like cigarette smoke is walking right alongside her. He glances over his shoulder, smiling as he murmurs something in response to whatever Jo said to make her shrug and winks at Dean.

“Honestly Dean, you have every reason to be as suspicious as you are right now.” Sam says, chuckling as he takes the cooler from Dean’s hand and tosses him one of the lukewarm beers from within. They’d forgotten to buy ice, of all things, and Jo was going to give them hell about it but none of them really minded at the moment. Dean chugs down half of the beverage before setting the bags he’s carrying behind Jo and Gabe already sitting on a beach towel. Jo pats the ground next to her and Dean frowns, debating whether or not the argument about sitting on Iron Man’s face is worth the trouble.

“Oh just sit down Dean-o, Tony Stark has been waiting for that sweet ass all day.” Gabe says winking at Dean over the end of the bottle he’s sipping from, making Dean stop between standing and the sand. Jo giggles, takes another pull of her already half empty beer and shoves Dean down onto his ass, puts her legs across his lap and leans back against Gabe’s shoulder. Sam has found someone who brought a dog to the beach and is running into against the low tide with it, laughing as it bites at the water lapping at its paws.

If Dean could afford it, he’d have gotten Sam a dog ages ago just to get him to smile like that. Gabe is watching Sam as well, Dean sees it out of the corner of his eye and they share a smile before turning back to their drinks. Dean has Jo’s foot is his hands, rolling her ankle when Sam looks back at them and his jaw drops. Dean frowns down the beach at him, glances behind them and quickly back at his brother.

“Shit god damn.” Dean murmurs under his breath and hears Jo hiss a laugh before pushing Gabe up to his feet. Gabe stands, swiping his hand down the back of his legs as he jogs towards the line of cars and his cousin approaching them.

“You set me up; this is a set up Jo.” Dean growls, making Jo roll her eyes before pulling her feet free of his hands and reaching for another drink for them both. Dean takes a long pull from the bottle and glares. Jo sighs, adjusts the sunglasses on her face and smiles.

“Yes it’s a set up Dean, no I don’t really give a good god damn whether you like it or not.” She says, still smiling and Dean makes a face at her, ignoring the sound of Gabe coming up behind them or the way his heart is speeding up slightly and damn it, why does Sam decide today of all days is the time to make friends with strange animals on the beach? Dean won’t look at them, (and really what the fuck is that about he’s not some school girl?) He won’t look up but he hears Gabe and Castiel sit on the other end of the suddenly so very small beach blanket and Jesus Christ he’d forgotten he was sitting on Robert Downey Jr.’s face in towel form and yeah, usually not such a bad idea, but now Dean kind of wanted to dig a hole under it and die.

“I don’t understand why you need me here Gabriel, I can’t even swim.” Castiel says head tilted down at Gabe who smirks.

“You need to relax Cas, that’s why. Besides what better place is there to get some relaxation than the beach?”

Cas is in a pair of baggy swim trunks and a t shirt, so far from what he normally wears Jo even notices. He smiles at her whistle of approval and rolls a sleeve up, blunt finger tips scratching at some phantom itch and Dean watches the movement. The exposed rise and fall of his clavicles under the v neck of the cotton shirt isn’t something Dean thought he’d react to but then here he is doing just that. He’s grateful Gabe has gotten up, joining Sam farther up the beach. Jo is talking to Castiel about different swimming techniques, both of them incredibly straight faced when Jo brings up the breast stroke. Dean snorts into his beer, not missing the wink Jo shoots him as she scoots behind Cas to help him perfect his technique.

Cas is hopeless, which is strange to see because though he doesn’t move like, say a trained ballroom dancer, he movements are fluid and always graceful. Dean can’t help but laugh at how very opposite to that he is right now. His hair is wild; wilder than usual from Jo tugging on his head every time he, ‘breaks the surface’ too soon. Cas is flustered; cheeks pink with embarrassment and Jo just glares down at him, Dean chuckling at her frustration as he continues to drink.

“Look I don’t expect you to be on the swim team Cas, but you have to at least be able to swim.” She growled and Dean rolled his eyes as he reached into the cooler for another drink. Cas sputtered, eyes wide as she stomped her foot in the sand before him.

“I’ve never been able to swim Jo I-”

“I’d give up while you’re ahead there Cas, trust me it just gets worse.” Dean chuckled, cutting him off and offered up a warm beer as Jo huffed, stomping in the direction Sam and Gabe had ran off to, muttering under her breath about Dean and something he’s probably better off not hearing. Cas hesitates, but takes the bottle and allows a slow smile to spread across his face before drinking from it.

Dean isn’t sure how long everyone has been gone only that he’s lying on his back on Tony’ Stark’s towel face, Cas right beside him. They’re out of beer but Dean can’t seem to bring himself to go back to the Impala and get some of the harder drinks stashed in the trunk. It’s cooled off, but only just and sand is sticking to his arms and legs. He pulls a face at the sound ruining his little bit of quiet before he realizes Cas is chuckling. He moves up onto his elbows, grinning down at Dean and shows him his hand, fingers dancing as he weaves a quarter over his knuckles. Dean laughs, lets his eyes fall shut and just laughs.

He hadn’t realized how much he had missed Castiel until that very moment, and it hit him with about as much force as a semi-truck in a head on collision. It’s his turn to sit up, fighting the way the world waves across his vision and turning his head to look at Cas. Cas does the same, stopping the coin and putting it between them, suddenly very serious.

“What…what happened Cas, with us?” Dean asks and wishes he could look away. Castiel’s eyes, big and always the deepest blue seem even more vibrant. Or maybe Dean is just drunk. He rolls his shoulders back, sighs and looks up at the stars. It would have be a nice moment, the two of them a little drunk, the stars, the beach, if Dean hadn’t fucked it up, like he always fucks it up. Cas clears his throat, takes a deep breath that Dean can somehow hear over the distant sound of whatever music is playing down the beach and the laugher of the group there. He sees a dog out of the corner of his eye and figures that’s where Sam is. Cas nudges him, shoulder brushing against his and Dean frowns.

“Huh?”

“I said I’m sorry Dean.” He sighs and Dean shrugs, suddenly not interested in the details because at least they’re talking now. He leans his head on Cas’ shoulder and feels Cas go completely still for a second. He starts to sit up, move away from him (when the fuck did they get so close anyways?) but Cas stops him with his fingers around Dean’s wrist.

It’s been months since they last spoke and then it was only Dean shouting at him; horrible, spiteful things as he fought down tears and watched Castiel’s face go still with things he wouldn’t allow himself to say. Dean wishes he remembered what the fight was about but every time he tries it just give him the urge to get completely shit faced, like his brain is trying to keep him from getting things back that will just do more harm than good. Dean is a lot of things, stupid isn’t one of them.

He waits a beat, looks over at Cas and down at his hand, his thumb rubbing slow circling on the inside of Dean’s forearm. They’ve been drinking since noon, he knows it’s the only reason they’re even civil right now. The fact that they can do this, sit like this together, Cas touching him like this, it so fucking fantastic it makes Dean’s face hurt.

“S’not your fault Cas.” He mumbles into the other boys shoulder and feels Cas relax as soon as the words leave his mouth. Dean knows they have to talk about it, probably should be talking now but he can’t bring himself to even open his eyes anymore let alone move his mouth and form words and string them together into sentences.

Dean wakes up, what he assumes is a few hours later with his head still on Cas’ shoulder. Only now they’re in the backseat of the Impala and they’re squeezed in with Jo and her bag. Gabe is up front smiling sleepily at Sam behind the wheel and Dean straightens a little at the sight of his younger brother behind the wheel of his baby. Cas’ had falls on his knee, rubbing back and forth with his thumb and Dean looks over at him. Cas smiles, lighting up his tired eyes and shakes his head.

“They didn’t want to wake you, and” he pauses to yawn and Dean has to fight not laugh at the way his face screws up when he does that, “I would really rather not have died tonight because you’re driving drunk and fell asleep at the wheel.” Cas opens his mouth as if to speak again and sees something up front that makes him quirk his eyebrow. He’s trying not to laugh and it takes Dean a second to turn to face the front of the car. He really wished he’d just ignored that look.

Gabe, who’d decided proper beach attire was a pair of jeans rolled up to mid-calf and the same cotton t-shirt he wore every day in every color on the big gay rainbow. Today apparently it had been a bright teal, clashing horribly with the sunburn on his nose. His bare feet were up on the dash; his eyes squeezed shut as he sang, getting louder as he went,

_“CALIFORNIA GIRLS WE’RE UNFORGETTABLE DAISY DUKES BIKINIS ON TOP! SUN-KISSED SKIN SO HOT WE’LL MELT YOUR POPCICLE OOOOOH OH OOOOOH! CALIFORNIA GIRLS WE’RE UNDENIABLE FINE, FRESH, FIERCE WE GOT IT ON LOCK. WEST COAST REPRESENT NOW PUT YOUR HANDS UP OOOOOH OH OOOOOH!”_

Jo was laughing beside Dean, Cas shaking his head on his other side, Sam rolling his eyes and trying his hardest to concentrate on the empty road before him rather than Gabe on his knees in passenger seat, tugging his shirt up and tying a knot in it. Dean smiles, closes his eyes and leans back into Cas, snuggles into his side when Cas puts his arm around Dean. It’s nice, this car ride back to their seedy motel room, even if that song is the bane of Dean’s existence.

~~~

Dean wakes up slow, letting the heavy feeling of his limbs keep him in bed longer than he’d wanted to be. When he tries to roll over he’s met with a very solid boundary that he knows for a fact isn’t Jo. The person grumbles, sighs in their sleep and pulls Dean closer. Dean is still half asleep, still road-tired and maybe a little drunk so he lets it go, inhales, nose wrinkling at the smell of something burning in the room, sickly sweet and catching at his lungs. He cracks an eyelid open turns his head to look, and chuckles. Gabe is awake, a joint dangling from his lips as he and Jo lean over Sam’s feet. They’re painting his toenails a bright pink. From the soft sound of Jo giggling and the way Gabe chides her gently, he’s sure they’ve been awake a while and smoking Gabe’s good vacation stash.

Dean rolls back over, throws an arm around a waist and pulls Cas (who else could it be?) closer. Cas grumbles in his sleep again, something unintelligible that rumbles deep in his chest and sends a wave of warmth all through Dean’s chest. He decides to sleep because waking up means facing the day and Sam’s hangover and everything that needs fixing between him and Cas and all of those things he’d rather not deal with right away.

Cas is smiling in his sleep, fingers dragging through Dean’s hair and tugging at the longer than normal strands at the nape of his neck. Dean sighs, feeling his eyes start to fall shut as he growls,

”Keep that shit away from my toes, Jo.” He drifts off to the sound of Jo mumbling about that still leaving his fingers.

He wakes up alone to an empty bed, the only person in the room, their bags piled onto the bed Sam had been sleeping on.

He starts to make his way towards it, intends on finding the cellphone he shares with Sam somewhere there and calling Jo before the door bursts open, he jumps, and Cas steps in.

“Hello Dean,” he says, motioning towards the table with the bags in his hands. His voice is all gravel deep from alcohol and what little sleep they managed. He follows Cas over, sits and doesn’t realize how hungry he is until Cas starts unwrapping hamburgers and his stomach gives a lurch. Cas chuckles, a sound that never ceases to make Dean smile, even as he’s working on shoveling burgers into his mouth.

“Thanks Cas,” he manages through a mouthful of food, brow furrowing at the expression creasing the other boy’s forehead. He waits until he’s done chewing before he nods, crumpling the wrapper into a ball and leaning away from the table.

“What’s up?” he asks. He knows what they’re about to discuss and hates it.

“We need to talk Dean.” Cas says, and like breathing, Dean’s sarcastic defense springs forward.

“Funny, cause my mouth is making noises like I’m talking right now.”

“Dean.” Cas narrows his eyes, palms flat on the table between them.

“Cas.” Dean growls. The way his name sounds with that quiet fury coming off Cas in waves that Dean has never been fond of. In some ways it reminds him of John and that pisses him off all over again.

Dean isn’t an idiot, (he knows that the way he knows that even though it was John’s first, he still manages to stall the Impala every time he takes the keys from Dean) he can count to a hundred, and speak enough, albeit broken, Spanish to not get food poisoning in Tijuana. He knows enough about cars in general and his baby specifically to be an above average mechanic. The fact that that will probably be his career doesn’t bother him in the least anymore.

What does bother him, put simply, is Cas. He sighs, turns his head way from the guy in question and frowns out the window. Cas, ever patient Castiel, is sitting and waiting, staring at Dean. His expression borders on confused, head tilted slightly but his eyes are aware of every minute change. It’s annoying and fascinating and that’s part of the problem. Dean has always known his lot in life. Hell, he accepted it and strived to be the best. He knew college was out of the question for him, worked night shifts and weekends at local shops to gain experience, get to know the guys, and fluff up the resume. He was fine with that, content with the fact that he’d probably be covered in small burn scars with a beer gut to rival Homer Simpson’s by the time he hits forty. All of that was fine until Cas came along.

But then Cas had always been there, he was Gabe’s cousin after all, and as much as Dean protested, one of Jo’s best friends. So yeah, Cas was always kind of there until Sophomore year rolled around and it was different. Sam was coming into high school, which for reasons Dean wasn’t going to dwell on, meant less of Gabe and more of Cas and suddenly they were friends. A lot of the time they hardly spoke. They didn’t really need to, knowing each other since middle school had its occasional perks.

That wasn’t it either though, Dean had known Jo most of his life and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking from a glance. And as great as it was, it sucked just as bad. Because Cas seemed to know him in such a way that made Dean want to throw up every guard he had in place at the same time his heart raced. It made him want to drive his car into the nearest body of water as long as they were together when it hit the water.

He doesn’t voice any of this, still glaring out the window as he pulls on his jacket; regrets it as soon as they step outside because it’s fucking boiling out. The empty spot where the Impala should be in the first thing to make Dean actually look at Cas. He’s watching Dean, like he’s always watching him, as he rolls up the sleeves of his button down. It’s bright white and usually there would be a color coordinating tank under it, deep blue tie setting off the color of his eyes.

“They took it to the beach,” he says, running a hand through the mess that is his hair before meeting Dean’s eyes. He chuckles as a look of horror crosses Dean’s features and is starting down the road before he calls back over his shoulder.

“Come on Dean, wouldn’t want to keep your baby waiting.” And the arch of his eyebrow, smile stretching across his face are a little more than necessary. It takes a minute for Dean to actually move and when he finally does he has to run to catch up to Cas.

It seemed to be an ongoing trend with them, when Cas runs, Dean runs twice as hard just to keep up. It was always like that, even before they went south in the worst of ways. Cas, for better or worse, always made Dean want more. More for himself, more for Sam. It made him want to hit the road with a trunk full of clothes and fake ID’s and a certain blue eyed angel face in the passenger seat. Dean thinks if you looked up the words wanderlust as it pertained to his life there would be a picture of Cas under the definition, all that hair dark wild as his eyes are blue. He looks over at him as they walk, watches the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle as he squints into the sun instead of blocking it out with a hand or a pair of sunglasses. It’s one of a hundred things Dean can name off the top of his head that he kind of fucking loves about the guy. They get to the beach, stopping to pull off their shoes and roll the legs of their pants up to avoid the surf.

Dean keeps going until he gets to the Impala. He can see Gabe sitting at an angle that reveals Sam’s head lying across his lap, twitching with laughter at something Jo is pantomiming that looks suspiciously like her mocking him.

He stretches, throws his jacket in the front seat, leans against the hood, and pulls himself onto it. Doesn’t look over to see Cas leaning against the driver’s side door. It reminds Dean of one of the last nights they spent together, up at Gabe’s family cabin. Jo and Sam were out on the terrace, trying to get up the nerve to jump into the near freezing water. Gave was rifling through the cabinets in search of alcohol. He’d had Dean show him how to pick locks specifically for this weekend. They’d been fighting, Dean still a little shaky, Cas’ hair even more of a mess than usual. Gabe’s obnoxiously loud singing in the background.

They’d broken up like that, like this, Dean laying on the hood scowling and not saying what he means or feels and Cas leaning against the side of the car as close as he could be without sitting with his back to Dean’s front. (It had been a favorite thing of theirs to do, ride out and sit on the hood, watching the stars with Dean’s arms wrapped around Cas’ chest.) That fight, leaving all those things up in the air with them sitting and standing like they were now and this funny little tightness in his chest made him groan. Dean closed his eyes, teeth digging into his lower lip before he sighed.

“i- I loved you.’ He murmurs and as soon as he says it he hopes no one heard him or how quickly he had to turn the present tense into past. His eyes fly open and he watches Cas tilt his head, turning just enough for Dean to see the smile softening his features as he glared into the horizon. Cas was still smiling, slow pull of his lips that goes to his eyes as he placed a hand on Dean’s knee and squeezed. He hummed, contentedly and Dean is suddenly cold and hot all at once from that small sound. He works past it, because now that he’s said that he needs to keep pushing, always does.

“That’s it. Just ‘hmm’?” he grumbles and if he’s not as playful as he was hoping to sound, well than, fuck that. Jo is dancing and Sam is laughing and Gabe is very obviously singing another horrible rendition of an already bad Katy Perry song. And Cas is still smiling. It makes Dean want to punch himself in the face.

“Yes.” Cas says, and Dean isn’t sure what he means by it. He frowns and Cas isn’t even looking at him but he laughs at it.

“This is ridiculous Dean,” he chuckles, turning to face Dean. He leans against the hood enough to shade Dean from the sun. So close, almost too close.

“Of course I love you.” Cas says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He keeps smiling, eyes ocean bright and sparkling with pent up laughter until it’s bubbling up and out of his mouth and Dean can either join in or scowl. He gets stuck somewhere in between a frown and grinning like a psychopath.

“I never stopped.” Cas murmurs, suddenly gone quiet. He’s leaning into Dean again; left hand on Dean’s left bicep and squeezing softly. Its number one on that list of one hundred things Dean loves about Cas and he’s sure they both know it. If they were both standing it would be enough to steady him and deal with the slight height difference. As it is, Cas looms over him, his eyes darkening for a moment, fast enough that if you weren’t looking you’d miss it.

Dean doesn’t miss it, recognizing the way Cas inhales before leaning in and Dean pushes up to meet him, knows the look in his eyes mirror the look Cas’ had even as his eyes flutter shut. Cas presses a kiss to his forehead. He lingers, lips warm and soft on Dean’s skin until they hear catcalls. Cas pulls away enough to turn his head and Dean scowls down the beach at Jo watching them, fingers between her lips as she whistles. Cas shakes his head, starts to open his mouth and Dean huffs, throwing his arms around Cas’ shoulders. He’s hot, hung over, but most of all he’s really over avoiding how he feels, especially how he feels about Cas. He pulls Cas down by the front of his shirt, sure to wrinkle it and annoy Cas, and growls.

“Fuck that.” then he’s kissing him. It starts the way everything has always started between them, careful and almost torturously slow and Dean wants to scream. But then Cas is pressing his tongue against his mouth and he sighs, lips parting just enough and Dean grabs handfuls of that wild dark hair, (‘Cas seriously needs a haircut,” he thinks somewhere in the back of his mind) angling for more when he notices the catcalls again. Cas must hear them too, he pulls away, standing straight and fighting the blush that’s creeping down his neck.

Dean can really only glare at them, but only for a moment. He moves off the hood, stands next to Cas. He laces their fingers together, smiles when Cas looks surprised at the sight.

“Neither did I, stop loving you I mean. You know that right?” He says, takes a deep fortifying breath and keeps talking past Cas motioning for him to stop.

“I know I’ve been an asshole, I know that, and a lot if it is me and I need to work on that but I love you and I-” he gushes and has to stop. It feels equal parts incredible and incredibly stupid. He finally meets Cas’ eyes, feels like he’s drowning, always did get like that when they’re this close.

“Do you, I mean would you-” He’s stammering, pissed because he’s stammering and trying to apologize or ask forgiveness or both and Cas smiles. He bring the hand still linked with Deans up to his face and presses his mouth to Dean’s knuckles. Leans in and presses a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“I already said yes.” Cas grins, like it’s the most obvious thing. Walking down to the rest of their ‘family’, Sam’s head on Gabe’s shoulder now as they laugh and Jo scolds all of them for being idiots.

They split the rides back home, Sam asleep against Gabe’s shoulder in the back seat with Jo behind the wheel of her truck, Cas and Dean alone in the Impala.

The only thing they’re missing is a Katy Perry song for Gabe to sing along to. And really, with Cas there, his hand in Dean’s between their seats, Dean is totally fine without it.


End file.
